Vietnam continued

Before Da Lat, there was a pit stop about an hour or two outside of it at the Dahm'ri waterfalls. Now that was one of the most indescribable views that was so difficult to even portray the beauty onto the screen of my camera. This lush, thriving waterfall surrounded by the greenest of greens and supreme natural atmosphere made me feel that the there was be so much to be preserved if only we tried hard enough.

And then there was Da Lat. Da Lat was this mesmerizing little city surrounded completely by tall, looming trees, mountains, and a lake. At night, especially, the city collided with me, making it this reality with lights tangled throughout it and all its hyperactive inhabitants dispersed to the corners and then concentrated in other spots. It reminded me of Chihiro's world from the animated film, Spirited Away. it was this magical enclave separated from the rest of the world. But probably not for much longer...

Da Lat had this furious wind that raged on angrily most nights like a bulldozer trying to break down the walls of an old stone building; it always got in. We spent the longest here exploring the gardens, restaurants, shops, fields, etcetera. We went to this place called the Field of Dreams with all these statues of animals and dream-like castles. One day, we took a tour of the former king's summer house for him and his family, and it got me thinking that there was something about the monarchy system, medieval courts, etcetera that was truly phenomenal and I would've liked to have lived it.

Up next was Nha Trang, a staggeringly gorgeous coastal town with so much action just exploding through the town. There was something about Nha Trang that was so visually and emotionally engaging. The single sight at the beach across the waters, alone, is one every American will have never glanced before. The breeze, the waves, the moisture, the tourists, the natives.... I felt something visceral here. And the drive here felt like an adventure in itself. It was some of the most rockiest, windiest, mistiest roads I had ever ridden through. Danger leered at you from every apparent angle. And then, you arrive to paradise.

The day after a night of amazing seafood and epic walks along the beach eating fresh squid fried up right in front of you on the beach was another unraveling escapade. Vinpearl, an island only accessible through a cable box strung above the waters or by boat, was this private resort that would make any tourists' mouths water. We took the route by cable box. The resort was absolutely wonderful, aside from the momentary annoyances with the older members for their tortoise pace, luddite eyes, and lack of communication. The sights here were to die for, unlike anything I've ever set my brown eyes on. There was this little man-made river on the waterpark at the resort at it was called song luoi, which means "lazy river". I floated down it while reading my book for over an hour, almost felt like I was Huckleberry Finn, just a young vagabond with nothing but adventures to worry about. After a day of the beach, waterpark, the best aquarium I've been in, a musical water symphony, and dinner, I finally retired for the night. I am putting my fingers to the keyboard right now and swearing that I will come back to Nha Trang before this town is submerged under salt water. (It supposedly will if the sea level keeps increasing the pace that it is.)

I took a final walk down to the beach by myself on the day we left Nha Trang and I felt scared that this was the last time I'd see this beach before reassuring myself that I can't let absurd thoughts like that fill my head. It was a concept too farfetch'd for me to ever let happen. I'll come back.

One last stop in Mien Tay where we took a boat to this island where this man used to live with eight other wives who were never allowed to leave the island. And he only ate coconut and drank coconut milk. After that, we went hunting for fruit which led us the house of these women. Going down the trails that led to their home, it really put the economic gaps in perspective for me. Literally, worlds apart. Fortune truly is as elusive as it seems.

My last night I went to the graves of my grandparents for the very first time. Oddly enough, the graveyard at night didn't scare me at all. It was really warm.

And after endless hours of plane rides, layovers, a day tour of Seoul, Korea, and more hours on a plane. I made it home to Orange County for five nights before leaving to Aarhus, Denmark for five months. I learned more than I could have expected in Vietnam, about the country, the people, my parents...myself. I took from this as much as I could and am wholly prepared and look forward to meeting Vietnam again very soon. I think about it all the time.

Vietnam

This recollection of my travels to Vietnam may feel a bit tardy but still completely worth the time.

Arriving in Saigon, it was an intense shock at the lifestyle that the Vietnamese live in, this being in the bigger cities of Vietnam let alone the rural life that I would later encounter, the skinny dark streets were strewn with restaurants that were, quite literally, in garages of people's homes. Although I can admit, there was a certain charm about it that was undeniable despite the evident makeshift everything that I saw.

Most were either sitting down in chairs not made for the elongated bodies of normal adults but chairs made for children, low to the ground as a pile of dirt would rise, while others would be squatting in such a manner that their butts were barely hovering over the concrete ground. This made me speculate...was this squatting low to the ground a result of convenience, or social/economic problems? I couldn't help but think that they squatted because throughout history, the Vietnamese have had to work so close to the ground, eat to the ground, exist down at the ground. A grand speculation, but one I admittedly had right before falling asleep in the cab.

My uncle's place was about an hour away from Saigon. I remember feeling a ghostly presence there. The presence felt benign, like the past of this historical place was welcoming me to it's story, luring me in. He lives in this old house with a church which he and a fellow priest run but the grounds has an old basketball court, a soccer field, a back tennis court, an ancient schoolhouse, old-school public showers and the entire place was so surreal and covered with old statues, green surroundings, and these ivory white butterflies that looked like fairies lightly floating through the plants, there one second, and then with the glare of the sun another second, completely vanished. The fairies had continued to enchant me my entire stay there, completely neutral to my breach into their haunted kingdom. I would close my eyes and could hear the children laughing.

Vung Tau was this still coastal town with this intense ocean breeze that would crush you with the urge to sleep, almost like Poseidon was casting some oceanic spell on the inhabitants. Vung Tau by night was stunning with cafes and restaurants lined up and all these tacky Christmas lights for decorations that didn't come off tacky at all but instead extremely inviting. The seafood was fresh from the seabeds at this restaurant by the waters and the lulling breeze was a drowsy breathe on my face that persuaded me to slumber with all of its romantic whispers, while glancing at all the Romeos and Juliets swaying by the shore.

The following day, we went to this colossal statue of Jesus rising up above this mountain with this epic pathway up to his feet. From there you can choose to climb up inside of the statue to the top. And from Jesus' shoulders, I saw everything...

We went back to Saigon again as we did a few times throughout the trip which was so exciting for me every time, as if I had known Saigon a long time ago and waited in anxiety until I could see it again. Saigon was beautiful and overpopulated in the most charming way , even though it was so dirty, crowded and loud. With that being said, there were many entrapping angles about it. I long to return to make this acquainted city a treasured comrade.

It was around this time that I got frustrated because I realized that although I know Vietnamese, I couldn't always express myself. This resulted in the plundering of my brain for sufficient Vietnamese words to help me engage myself, and more times than not, the mental looting would be disappointing... so instead, I would just resume the butterfly catching with my mom and dad with horribly constructed tools, to pass the time, without the need of many words involved.

Beginnings

I had come to the decision to create a personal blog based on the desired purpose of the blog becoming a conduit for my writing. As a struggling writer, aspiring journalist, whatever the term, it is crucial to constantly be writing, thinking, dissecting. And so it begins here. This blog page, carefully titled CAVALIER CONCEPTS, will be my realm of words, whether it be descriptions of my travels, reviews of a movie or a book, an analysis of global politics, a short story, or most likely, just a collection of my thoughts, you can find them here.

I view writers partly as society's defenders, debaters, and truth seekers, and to successfully execute those tasks, includes the vulnerable exposure to the public domain. This domain may scrutinize me, martyr me, ostracize me, or even glorify me but it is this public exposure that will refine me and my skills of becoming a writer. And so, comrades, I challenge you. Do not be appalled at this prospect. Pick away at my writing as a woodpecker punishes a tree, so that I can do better. Now, what a cavalier concept, wouldn't you agree?